All Chapters of The Duke And I: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

"You will become the English Duke's ward!" The words, spoken several hours ago, still rung in Jonathan’s ear. Master Nicholas had gone, and since then he’d strolled out into the garden, where he found it best to dwell on his thoughts. Of course, this would happen to them. He’d been expecting it ever since they heard the news, pitiful as it were. It was just like their parents to stroll off on a doomed voyage and leave their children behind to the mercy of the world. He would never forget the wail of despair from Cassandra when the letter arrived. A bit melodramatic, truth be told, but one could forgive her for being so suddenly struck by grief. The barrister certainly didn’t see things that way. “I don’t see what all the fuss is about, really,” he’d said with a pompous air which made Jonathan wish he could punch the soggy old man right across the face. “These things

Cassy had the worst journey ever. She had never been one so interested in the sea. As the ship ducked at the England shore, Cassy stepped out and was greeted by a tall young man."Lord Levington?" He asked and she nodded in affirmation. She pointed out to the one trunk that had been brought from America. The man seemed surprised."Some of my things were lost," Cassy lied, and that satisfied him."I'm certain that his grace will be ordering you new garments more commensurate with your station," the man said politely, and indicated that Cassy should follow him.That caused her some unease as she tried to visualise how she would be measured for the new garments. But that was still in the future, and there were other hurdles to clear first, she decided as the man who was the steward and named Sheldon, showed her to a waiting carriage. She eyed it with wide eyes, noting the silver crest on the door, and the brightly glea

"Lord Levington. Lord Levington," the voice insisted, and Cassy groaned, shoving her head up under her pillow. Then she realized with painful swiftness where she was and who she was supposed to be, and jerked out from under the clowny coverlet and fat pillow and blinked at the strange man approaching the canopied bed where she slept. Gray light filtered in through tall windows with drapes pulled."I'm awake," she croaked, keeping the coverlet up to her chin as the valet approached the bed with a look of a man intent upon assisting. "I don't like to be helped with my morning duties!" Cassy snapped gruffly, hoping he would be daunted by her fierce expression. He was.The valet bowed his head and murmured, "his grace expects you in the morning room, my lord. Shall I lay out your clothes for the day?"Cassy nodded, "yes. Several layers of clothing, please," she said at the faintly surprised look on the valet's face. "I find england

But after Sheldon had left her alone in the study with the lunch tray and the rain still pelting the mullioned windows, Cassy surrendered to gloom. Her fate would be the same, no matter what her brother did. Jonathan was assured of a place when and if he returned from sea, but she would be superfluous. An unwanted sister destined to remain on the fringes of life. There would be no place for her here, that much was certain.Her only hope was to carry off her deception until her eighteenth birthday. As stipulated by her father's will, she would at least inherit a small legacy and be able to avoid confinement in a convent. Yes, she'd have to stick it out at Eastland, but she dreaded her next encounter with the grim duke.No less did the duke anticipate his next conversation with his ward. Young Levington was a surly youth, he thought wryly. And entirety too effeminate for his liking, though he did have a prickly temper. Eastland had noted the boy's alm

Waking early, Cassy gazed upAt the swag of canopy over her bed and dreaded the day. Gray light pressed through the panted windows, and she realized that Gabriel must have already drawn the drapes, which meant he would be returning any moment to help her dress. That moved her to action and she flung herself from the bed and toward the dressing room.With the dressing room door softly shut, she shed her nightshirt and dressed quickly. Turning in front of the long mirror to look at her appearance with an anxious eye, she noted the faint bluish shadows beneath her eyes and sighted. Thus, all in all, her masquerade was virtually unrecognizable. Even Jonathan could not recognize her for a few moments. Her hair was darker now, then it was white, long and pulled up into a demure chignon. Despite her efforts to keep her curls tamed, they waved in unruly stands in a short cropped style that was popular.Leaning closer, she gazed at her face with a frow

Sunday, obviously, was not one of those days. It began early, with her valet bringing her the information that his grace expected her to be downstairs within half an hour, dressed and ready for services in the village church.Church didn't sound bad at all, though Cassy did wonder sleepily why it began so early. She'd always enjoyed the sermons and at church near Hampton roads. The minister had been a bit grim at times, but interesting. And she liked singing the hymns.Church services with the duke of Eastland, she soon discovered, were an entirely different matter.In the first place, they arrived in the village in the ducal carriage, which commanded the villagers immediate awe and respect and made Cassy feel conspicuous. She could feel their eyes on her, some speculatively, some wary, some merely accepting, but all combining to make her feel quite uncomfortable.She hoped no one noticed her difficulty in keeping o

"En garde!"Gripping her epee tightly, Cassy flexed her knees and lifted her left arm in the air as her instructor, M. Fournier, had taught her. Her throat closed with nervous apprehension as the small, wiry Frenchman assumed the first position. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the ballroom, glittering on the blade of the slender epee she clutched in her right hand. It seemed to sparkle with deadly intent.A large may had been spread on the floor in the ballroom where she received her fencing lessons, and the instructor had inked a mark on its surface to indicate where she was to stand. Cassy tried to keep her stockinged feet near the mark and concentrate on M. Fournier at the same time.This was her first lesson, and she wore cork told on the blunt end of her blade, as well as a mask and padded vest. It was de rigueur, Fournier insisted, for his lordship to be well protected.Still, Cassy could

Anthony Henry Blake, Ninth Duke of Eastland, found himself in a towering rage as he strode toward the manor house his ancestors had begun in the fourteenth century. His family was an old one, though the original duke of Eastland had been little more than a mercenary. The fierce blood of those early adventures still ran in his veins, and Henry took a savage pleasure in it most of the time.That ruthless streak had never bothered him until lately, when he'd begun to feel faintly foolish for allowing a beardless youth to irritate him past the point of self-control. But dammit, Levington just had such a vulnerable, female look about him! His shy, wide blue eyes, and the way his lashes lowered whenever he thought the duke was staring at him were irritating to the extreme, not to mention those few times he'd caught the boy gazing at him with something close to wary admiration. There was definitely something about the boy that made him edgy, but he felt ridiculous not bein

"You're a fidgety boy, aren't you?" The Dowager Duchess of Eastland remarked, impaling Cassy with a steely glare."I'm sorry, your grace," she muttered and stared glumly down at her untouched dinner plate. Footmen were still serving a variety of meats from salmon to mutton, along with an astonishing array of vegetables, sausages, pickles, and creamed dishes to tempt the appetite."Don't apologise," Eastland's grandmother said in a stern voice. "It's a sign of weakness."Cassy glanced up at the jewelled, rather a portly woman with a surprise, and nodded. "Yes, your grace...""And don't be so mealy-mouthed!" The duchess snapped. "Where's your spirit?"A rush of resentment washed through her, and Cassy's eyes glittered as she said evenly, "I've been made to understand that spirit is not as important as obedience, your grace. If it offends you, it does not offend the duke.""I see," the

She could hardly hide her relief when the dinner ended, and the women retired to the drawing-room while the men lingered with port and cigars. Unfortunately, she was expected to stay in the dining room with the men. Cassy felt out of place and uncomfortable, but managed to remain just out of conversational range for a while.Eastland sat back, putting in a word now and then, but letting his guests argue to their heart's content as they imbibed generously from his excellent wine cellar.Again and again, Cassy found her eyes drawn to him and she wondered desperately just what sort of odd fixation she had formed for the arrogant duke. He certainly wasn't very nice to her, or polite, or even distantly friendly. He obviously regarded her, as Levington, a millstone around his neck. She was a duty to be discharged, and he meant to do his best by it, that she could see. But she could also see that he resented every moment of it. When,